Patience
by emmaliefje
Summary: Future!fic. Brittany is not known for being patient. But when she finds an engagement ring in Santana's coat pocket, will she be able to wait for Santana to get up the courage to ask her? Complete.
1. Chapter 1: The Box

**Title: **Patience  
**Author: **emmaliefje  
**Pairings: **Brittany/Santana, side Quinn/Puck**  
Spoilers: **Everything up to 2x10 A Very Glee Christmas. **  
Summary:** Future!fic. Brittany is not known for being patient. But when she finds an engagement ring in Santana's coat pocket, will she be able to wait for Santana to get up the courage to ask her? Complete, but unpublished. Will be updated biweekly. **  
Rating: **NC-17 for physical intimacy.  
**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. If I did, Glee might just become The Brittana Show.

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Brittany is not known for being patient. She knows it about herself, just like she knows her feet will get cold when she wears blue socks, but not when she wears red socks (like the ones with the baubles on the big toe). She doesn't like to wait. Particularly when it comes to Santana. When she wants something, she knows she will get it. A pout, a flutter of eyelashes, a winning smile, or a few well-placed fingers is all it takes, and she can see Santana melt and become putty in her hands – or beneath her lips, depending on the situation. Like that time at Nationals after their performance when all she'd had to do was run her fingers under the hem of Santana's skirt and ask "Now?" in a throaty whisper, and the brunette had nearly dragged her to the nearest empty room and left hickeys that no amount of cover-up could hide and fingerprints that bruised beautifully purple on the bus ride home.

So, seven years after the hickeys from Nationals have faded, when Santana wakes her with a kiss and whispers that she went birthday shopping early in the morning, Brittany squeals with delight and demands her present on the spot.

"Trust me, Britt, this one is worth waiting for," Santana insists. She grins and fidgets nervously with a fold in the sheets that Brittany has disregarded (she never understood the need for sheets; she's got Santana to keep her warm).

Brittany groans and nods reluctantly, hiding a small mischievous grin. In the end, she knows she always gets her way anyway. She'll get whatever anyone denies her, especially if it's Santana. And if something is so good that other people think it is worth waiting for, Brittany wants it right then and there.

"Okay. I'll wait," Brittany grumbles, and Santana raises an eyebrow at the quick defeat. "For now," she adds, with a grin, and Santana matches it; this is the Brittany she knows. Brittany quickly reaches forward and pulls Santana down onto the bed, coat, scarf, hat, and all. The brunette laughs as Brittany rolls on top of her, trapping her beneath her body. "But don't make me wait for something else today, S," she giggles, punctuating her words with a kiss as she reaches to unzip Santana's coat. Santana doesn't make her wait, and strips off her gloves to put her hands to better use.

She plans to wake Santana after a quick shower to redouble her efforts to get her presents because she knows that sometimes, if she waits too long, she forgets what she is waiting for, but as she untangles herself from Santana's sleeping body, fate lays a hand. Or rather, a foot. She dangles her legs over the edge of the bed and jumps off onto Santana's unnoticed coat, and she nearly yelps as her foot lands on something small and hard in one of the pockets. She quickly turns back to Santana, but the brunette hasn't stirred. Brittany looks back at the coat, and frowns. It couldn't be a button; she asked Santana to stop wearing button coats long ago. Buttons take way too long to undo, and Brittany just can't wait sometimes.

She crouches down, fingers through the pockets, and pulls out a small blue box. She pouts; boxes are such dilemmas. She knows the story of the woman who opened a box and let all the bad stuff and sin into the world, but she's pretty sure sex was one of the things that was in the box, and that isn't so bad, is it? She sneaks a peak across the top of the bed at Santana, her sleeping beauty. If it was in Santana's coat, this box couldn't have any bad in it, could it? Ducking down, Brittany gives in to her curiosity, and with a soft click, the box opens.

She nearly squeals in delight at the sparkle of the diamond, but covers her mouth in time to catch the sound. The box holds a small white gold ring with a closed-cut diamond, rimmed by two small sapphires. She fingers the small gems, a smile from ear to ear, running one sentence over and over through her mind: _Santana is going to propose. _

She remains on the floor, the box cupped in her hands, shell-shocked from happiness for God knows how long, until Santana mumbles in her sleep and Brittany realizes her future fiancé probably wouldn't be too happy to find her like this. She softly closes the box, replaces it in Santana's coat, and tries to control the grin on her face, to no avail. She jumps onto the bed, straddles Santana's naked body and, sweeping away her dark hair with soft fingers, leans down to kiss her neck.

"Santana…" she chimes, kissing up and down her neck. Santana grumbles in response, trying to turn over and bury herself in the bed, but Brittany insistently holds her underneath her, placing quick kisses along her collarbone as she whispers: "I-love-you, I-love-you, I-love-you," silently thinking: _I can't wait._

Santana has given up the fight, and opens her eyes slowly, mumbling, "I love you too, Britt." Brittany moves her kisses to Santana's lips; she can feel Santana smiling at the tender wake up call. When they pull apart, she asks sleepily, "What time is it?"

Brittany perks up. "Time for breakfast!"

"Britt, I think it's time for lunch. We've been sleeping – and not sleeping – since eleven."

"But I want to give you breakfast in bed. Lunch in bed isn't romantic." Brittany scrunches up her nose. "And it doesn't sound as nice."

"Let's compromise and call it brunch. 'Brunch in Bed' still sounds nice. Double B… B," Santana smiles, moving a blonde lock of hair behind Brittany's ear.

"I'll make hot chocolate too. It's cold outside." She jumps off the bed and bounds out of the room as Santana calls: "Don't burn your tongue! Wait until it's cooled down!"

Brittany grins. Yes, she can wait.


	2. Chapter 2: In The Closet

_It's just turned into Wednesday here, which means it's time for the next chapter! Some of you lucky Americans will have a few full hours more to read this than the rest over across the great pond! :) Sorry it's so short; this is actually kind of the average length of the chapters. Enjoy though, and have Patience (you see what I did there? :P) till Saturday!_

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A week later, Brittany's not so sure she can wait anymore. She's excited about her birthday, but it's nothing compared to the happiness that the memory of the little blue box bubbles up. Santana decides to throw her a small birthday party with a few close friends from high school and work. She grumbles a bit when Brittany asks for Quinn to come ("Knowing her, she's gotten herself knocked up again and won't fit behind the steering wheel."), but Brittany decides not to try her luck and invite Artie. Santana wouldn't have stopped her, but she knows she still harbors him some ill will. He was the reason why she and Santana weren't together all of high school, and Santana had once told her happily of a dream in which she had pushed high-school Artie off a cliff during Cheerleading practice ("There's no cliffs in Lima, San," she'd reasoned, but Santana had muttered cheerfully: "The earth opened up and created some. Even Mother Nature thinks wheel-chair boy should try out cliff-diving!").

Around eight o'clock, people begin to trickle in slowly. Quinn – not pregnant (Brittany gives Santana a look) – arrives at the same time Puck does, followed by two of Brittany's fellow dancers. Santana's brother, Enrique, punches her playfully and makes a quip that makes Santana purse her lips in disapproval but makes Brittany smile, and Brittany's sister, now in high school, gives her a quick hug and bounces off to Quinn to discuss tactics for surviving Sue Sylvester's summer Cheerio camp next year. Brittany greets them happily as they put the presents on the coffee table, tempting Brittany while they sip their drinks and she has to watch the pile getting bigger every minute. She catches Santana grinning at her, reading her mind like a book: her impatience is getting unbearable. She traces the pile for a sign of the box, but decides Santana will probably wait until after all the other presents are opened. _God, even more waiting_, Brittany thinks, and sighs in frustration.

"What's up, Britt?" Mike asks, nudging her shoulder. She hadn't heard him come in, and perks up, glad for someone to keep her mind off the box. Without a word, she grabs his arm and pulls him into the hallway closet.

"Uhm, what are you doing?" Mike asks.

"I need to talk to you."

"Okay… but do we need to be in a closet? You came out a while ago, didn't you?" Mike sputters as a fur lining of a coat slides down across his face and clings to his lips.

Brittany raises an eyebrow. "Of course I did. What does that have to do with a closet?"

Mike shakes his head, a bemused smile on his face. "Never mind. What's up?"

"It's about Santana. She's going to propose."

Mike's bemused smile cracks into a full grin. "Congratulations! That's great!"

"Yes, it is, but I found the ring and now I don't know how to act surprised! So I need you to distract her when she gives it to me."

"Wait, she's proposing today?"

"Yes, so you have to distract her. Do a dance when she gives me the ring, she won't notice that I don't look surprised."

Mike laughs even louder, and pats Brittany's shoulder. "Brittany, trust me, she's not going to notice anything but the word coming out of your mouth. I could get everyone to start doing the can-can in their underwear and she wouldn't have eyes for anyone but you. It doesn't matter that you're not going to look surprised. After tonight, you're going to be engaged!"

This time, Brittany joins him in the laugh and a hug, and feels like her cheeks will stretch from smiling. Suddenly, light floods the closet and the two pull apart to see a surprised Kurt with his – no doubt 'designer' – jacket over his arm.

"Well, well," he chuckles, "and here I thought you and Santana had come out of the closet ages ago."

Mike laughs, "That's what I said!" The two guys see the confused look on Brittany's face, and double over with laughter again. Brittany shrugs and laughs along with them, buoyed by her secret happiness and hopeful memory of a small blue box.


	3. Chapter 3: The Party

_Okay, so I felt bad about the last chapter being so incredibly short, so I thought I'd upload the next chapter, which is _also_ very short, right after. Thanks for all the reviews! Keep them coming, and I MIGHT just update the next chapter sooner as well!_

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She can't help it. She's fidgeting. Her leg is bouncing up and down. She bites her bottom lip. She brushes back her bangs ever few seconds. And she glances at Santana every minute, just to see her grinning like she knows what's coming.

She's almost through the presents, and she's suffered two papercuts in her hurry to strip them of wrappings. Mike signaled her to slow down after, in her haste, she nearly tore off a button of the dress Quinn had bought her. But she can't wait any longer. With a triumphant "I love it" and a quick hug, she places Puck's "I'm a Vagitarian" cup on the coffee table and looks up at Santana expectantly.

"San?"

"Yes, yes, now my present." She quickly slips into the kitchen and Brittany strains her neck to see her open a kitchen closet and take out a small box. She frowns. The box definitely got bigger. And, as Santana walks closer, carefully balancing the small load, it's definitely _squeaking_. How can a ring squeak? Did Santana somehow switch the ring for one like in _The 10__th__ Kingdom_? A _singing_ ring?

Santana hands over the box. "Careful. I wanted to get you a duckling" – Brittany's heart jumps into her throat – "but no pet store has them…"

Brittany looks uncertainly at the box. She can feel something moving inside. She swallows and glances at Santana, who is waiting happily.

"Open it, Brittany," Mike prompts, seeing the situation not quite playing out how Brittany had imagined it.

Her heart still hammering in her throat, Brittany lifts the top of the box, only to be attacked by two overexcited velveteen paws and a small little snout as a tiny dwarf hamster scampers onto Brittany's open hand. Her face breaks out into an awed, shocked smile. "Oh my God! It's so cute!"

Quinn scoots back in her chair. "I don't like mice."

"It's not a mouse," snaps Santana, but a look from Brittany has her instantly taking in a calming breath. "It's a Winter white Russian dwarf hamster – from a pet store in the city, not from Russia," she adds, as Brittany looks up in shock.

"Aaw, that's a really great present, Santana," quips Mike, an eye on Brittany, but the blonde is gleefully cooing to her new pet.

"It's a total babe magnet; all chicks dig that cutesy pet crap," Puck chimes in, and there's a bit of a bustle as three people (Quinn, Kurt, and Santana) simultaneously attempt to slap him over the head.

"Just 'cause you're gonna be alone for Christmas again, doesn't mean we all are," Santana quips, and there's a communal whoop of "Burn!" and "Ooo"s, followed by easy laughter as Puck grins cheekily and Santana returns her gaze to Brittany. "I've already got my babe," she says happily.

The hamster in Brittany's hands scuffles across her fingers, sniffing and burying its head between the cracks. It lingers on her empty ring finger, and, with a small pang of disappointment, she remembers something that's missing on this birthday. But she looks up and catches Santana gazing at her lovingly, and the disappointment disappears. She can wait for a little while longer.

The hamster scurries under her sleeve and, before she knows it, she's lying on the couch laughing as the small creature tickles her skin, and she doesn't have another second to dwell on her own impatience.


	4. Chapter 4: The Afterparty

_It's Saturday, which means it's time for an offical, planned update! This chapter is the reason the story is rated M. At the time, it was the first love scene I had written, like EVER. But I'm happy with it. _

_It's also becoming very difficult for me to resist uploading everything all at once. I think reviews might just make it even harder for me to be patient. :)_

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"So what are you going to name him?" asks Santana as she turns off the water running over the dishes. All the guests have left. By the end of the night, Puck had had one beer too many and was making puppy dog eyes at Quinn, who later decided she had better drive him home (Brittany had grabbed and squeezed Santana's hand hopefully, and the brunette had rolled her eyes with a smile). Brittany's colleagues had gotten to talking with Kurt about his costume choices for their local rendition of _Oklahoma!_, while the couple's siblings had snuck off halfway through the party to the study, away from 'the old folks'. Brittany had peeked in on them laying on the floor, listening to music from her laptop and laughing at YouTube videos, and she had run back to Santana excitedly.

"Wouldn't that be incest or something?" the brunette had asked, scrunching up her nose in distaste.

"No, no… that's only between cousins. How cool would it be, though? If Enrique and Callie got together? We'd be a little family."

"We already are a little family, Britt. Emphasis on 'little'. Just the two of us."

"I know we are." She paused. "Do you think it'll always be this way?" Brittany had asked softly.

Santana paused as well, wine glass halfway to her lips, her eyes distant. She refocused on Brittany with a smile. "I hope so."

_Ask me_, Brittany thought, as she saw Santana's look waver and a nervous smile replace her tipsy grin. But Santana had quickly stood up and returned to the party, refilling drinks and cracking jokes.

Now the two are in their kitchen. Santana finally pried the hamster from Brittany's reluctant fingers, and the blonde is sitting on the kitchen counter, dangling her legs contentedly. The distant sound of a hamster wheel sets a nice background to the question as Brittany ponders a name for her new pet.

"I'm going to name it Santana. So when I call it, you won't know if I'm calling you or the hamster."

"Oh, no, don't do that. I'll stop responding to my name and you won't be getting any more late-night favors from me," Santana teases, grinning at Brittany's horror-struck expression.

"How about Quick?"

"That's original, Britt," Santana chuckles. "Better call it Quicksilver, but Quick for short. It's quick, and it's silver."

"What? I didn't see that it was silver." Brittany's look of confusion is priceless as she starts to move to go check if she somehow missed that her new pet is actually shiny.

"No, it's a joke. It's white and grey," Santana assures, flicking some soapy water at her. "Stay where you are."

"How about Rattata?"

"Isn't that a Pokemon?"

"Yup."

"Then no."

"Aaw, but it's a cute one! It's purple!" Brittany pleads.

"It makes you sound like you have a stutter!" Santana laughs as Brittany pouts again. "You know, you don't need my approval for any name. It's your hamster, your birthday present. You can name it whatever you want."

"I know," the blonde replies, her pout turning into a kiss as she leans sideways and brushes Santana's cheek. "But you're my favorite."

Santana smiles and continues to wash, a blush creeping into her cheeks.

"I've got it. I'm going to name it Eggster."

Santana bursts out laughing and drops a cup into the soapy water, splashing it over her jeans. Brittany joins in her laugh as Santana sputters: "What, like eggs and ham? Eggster and Hamster?"

"Yes. The Green Eggster. Like _Green Eggs and Ham_."

The two stop laughing for a second, look at each other, and simultaneously exclaim "Sam!" before bursting into giggles again.

When they stop laughing, Santana wipes her hands on her jeans and steps up to Brittany, nudging her legs apart and placing her damp hands on her thigh and cheek. "You're such a dork. I love it."

Brittany leans into the hand on her cheek and wraps her own hands around the back of Santana's neck. "Do you love me?"

"So, so much," she says with a smile, leaning close for a kiss. The two remain there for a few minutes, kissing familiarly and leisurely. When Brittany deepens the kiss, biting playfully at Santana's bottom lip, the brunette moves her hands to Brittany's hips to pull her against her body and Brittany softly pulls Santana's hair out of its ponytail to run her hands through her hair and across the back of her neck. Santana smiles into the kiss approvingly and pulls Brittany even closer against her body, tugging her legs up and her hips forward, the force of the collision making the blonde's breath catch as she wraps her legs around Santana. The sharp intake of breath spurs Santana on, and she leans forward, pushing Brittany back onto the kitchen counter. Brittany can't decide if it's the cold of the counter or Santana's roaming hands that make her shiver.

"You know, B, it's your birthday," Santana whispers unhurriedly against Brittany's skin as she pushes up her shirt and runs her hands across her arched back, making her way to unhook her bra. Brittany's "Uh-huh" comes out as something between a moan and a whimper when Santana pulls her shirt over her head, unhooks her bra, and moves her hands to the button on her jeans. "It means I do whatever you want tonight."

"O-okay," she stutters, licking her lips as quickened breathing dries them.

"So what do you want?" Santana asks, sliding both hands under Brittany's loose bra, and resting there.

Brittany blinks. She wasn't expecting to have to decide right now, in this… situation. "I… uhm… Just… need…" Her thoughts derail as Santana smiles against her skin and peppers kisses down her stomach. She slides a hand underneath the edge of her underwear, and cold fingers brush her skin, finding wet heat.

"Shall I give you a moment to think?" Santana teases, and scissors her fingers slowly.

"Oh God, San," Brittany breathes, pushing her hips forward. "Just more… more of this." Santana complies, damp fingers pushing closer and harder, and when Brittany arches her back in response, the movement pulls her up off the counter. Between moans, she catches Santana's mouth in a kiss. Santana's hand moves expertly beneath her underwear, the rhythm increasing, and the other fondles her breast, pulling away her bra, as she moves her kisses to Brittany's throat.

"Wait… Wait," Brittany mutters, and Santana slows down, kissing up Brittany's neck.

"What is it?" she whispers into her ear, nipping an earlobe and eliciting a soft moan as Brittany tries to remember exactly why she wanted Santana to wait. Waiting is totally not her thing. She tries to control her breathing and opens her eyes.

"You're way too dressed."

"Don't worry, you can undress me later," Santana chuckles, as her mouth roams across Brittany's naked upper body.

"Later?"

"As much as I am enjoying the hell out of taking you on the kitchen counter… our bed upstairs is feeling lonely. We should go keep it company… once we're finished here," Santana mumbles, kissing a nipple.

"Oh, okay," Brittany manages distractedly. Then, "But is our bed really lonely?"

Santana straight out laughs and stops her kisses to look Brittany sternly in the eye. "Are you going to talk all through this?"

"It's just that I'd feel bad for the bed if it was really… Oh." Brittany's sputtering is cut off with a soft gasp as Santana grinds her hips forward suddenly, pushing the heel of her hand against her clit.

"Hush. Focus on this –" Santana curls her fingers and presses forward again "– and this –" she rolls a nipple between her fingers "– and this." She leans forward and kisses Brittany, persistently, flicking her tongue between the blonde's lips, and gaining entry when Brittany gasps as she combines all three movements.

Brittany focuses. Her mind shuts off and she shudders involuntarily. Her own hands roam Santana's hair and neck as she deepens the kiss, gasping against her girlfriend's lips in time with the rhythm Santana's hand is setting. Her fingers dig into Santana's arm, urging her on as the gasps turn into soft, high-pitched whimpers and she can't focus on the kiss anymore because her thigh muscles are trembling against Santana's hips and her breathing is ragged and loud, overpowered only by the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears and in her neck as Santana sucks insistently at the pulse point, and _fuck,_ it feels so good, she's shocked how Santana can push her any higher. But somehow she does, and suddenly the shudders still and every fiber is taunt and tensed and Santana pulls her flush against her own body and breathes in her ear, drowning out Brittany's gasping moan with a throaty "I love you."

"Oh God…" Brittany breathes as she comes down from her orgasm, nearly collapsing in her girlfriend's arms.

"Mmm-huh," Santana agrees and kisses Brittany as her breathing comes down, the need and the high and the _now _of the moment fading slowly, replaced by warm skin on skin and a catch in the throat as Brittany thinks how damn great Santana is with birthday presents. Santana pulls her hand reluctantly out of Brittany's unbuttoned jeans and swishes her fingers around in the sink for a few seconds. With a grin, she pulls away and flicks some water over Brittany's heated skin.

"San!" Brittany squeals, and dips her hand into the water to splash back at Santana.

"My shirt!" she protests. Brittany splashes again, some of the water reaching Santana's neck and dripping down into her cleavage. "Britt, I'll get soaked!"

"Doesn't matter. I'm getting you naked later anyway," Brittany grins. She leans forward to lick the water off her girlfriend's skin.

"Britt, don't! It's – "

Santana's objections are cut off as Brittany sputters and scrunches up her face in disgust.

" – soap…"

"Blagh," Brittany replies, running her tongue against her teeth and coughing.

Santana laughs. "You're so articulate." She steps back and tugs at Brittany's hand. "Come on, let's get rid of that taste. Our bed is missing us, and I'm completely wet." She starts to walk away, figure swaying sensually.

"Take off your shirt then," Brittany suggests from the counter with a smirk, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel.

Before Santana disappears around the corner through the doorway, she turns for a second and winks. "Not that kind of wet, B."

Silently, Brittany thanks whatever that woman's name was who let sex out of the box (her orgasm afterglow driving the thought of a different kind of box completely from her mind) and bounces off the makeshift (love)seat to scamper after her girlfriend.


	5. Chapter 5: Guy Talk

_Here's another chapter! Only a few more to go! I know some of you aren't a fan of Puck and Santana lesbromance (or whatever it's called), especially after the new Silly Love Songs teaser, but I wrote this a while ago when it still seemed plausible. Enjoy!_

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The Green Eggster nuzzles into Brittany's hand, trying to burrow into the strange material and get to the reward (a maze of sheets) beneath. To Santana's (brief) irritation, Brittany had insisted that they put the hamster cage on their dresser in their bedroom when they went to bed, so Eggster ("Nickname Eggy?" Mike had joked) wouldn't get lonely at night ("Don't worry, San, I'll teach him to look away when we have sex," Brittany assured her). In the beginning, Santana had nearly gone mad with the sound of the hamster wheel spinning and the shredded paper rustling, but Brittany just hummed her a Disney song and she would relax and refocus enough to block out the sound. Now, three weeks later, she's not sure she can sleep without it anymore. Anyway, sometimes the Disney song comes with an orgasm (free of charge or return favor – though Santana rarely passes up the opportunity), so Brittany knows Santana would be mad to complain about a few small hamster sounds when some _different_ sounds can easily drown them out.

"You're such a cutie," Brittany mutters at her pet, rubbing it between its tiny shoulder blades and spreading her fingers. Instantly, he shuffles across the bed and disappears into the sheets. Brittany watches for movement and feels velvet fur tickling her toes within seconds as Eggy explores the cotton tunnel paradise.

Her phone rings and she reaches across the bed (carefully keeping her toes immobile) to her bedside table to answer it.

"Good morning!"

"Really? It's past noon. Do you and Santana sleep in _every _Sunday?" asks Mike, amused.

"Santana's already up. I just get really tired when she keeps me up half the night. Seriously, last night, you wouldn't believe how she – "

"Ok-eeeey, I feel a _tmi _moment coming up, so – I believe you."

"But I didn't – "

"You would have. I know you."

Brittany grins and rolls over. He does. If Santana were the sharing type, Puck would have a field day if she ever told him about last night's sexcapades.

"So what's up, Mike?"

"Just calling to chat. See how you're doing."

"Can't complain. Slept in today – " Mike mumbles "Obviously…" " – and I had an easy week. Our choreographer was sick on Thursday and Friday, so they let us dancers just practice what we already had, but in costume. Kurt kept shouting at us to be careful, but it was a good chance to see if we could dance in what he had picked."

"Could you?"

"At one point I tripped over a bale of hay that somebody had left around on stage when I wasn't looking, but that wasn't really the costume's fault. It was fun dressing up like a cowgirl though!"

Mike laughs. "I bet. I remember when we did that one song, 'Last Name', in Glee, with April Rhodes, and we all dressed up like cowboys and cowgirls. That was great."

"Yeah, it was. I had a fun week. And we got the routine down nearly perfectly now."

"What will you do after the show? The next one will be Shakespeare, won't it? Do they need you for dancing then?"

"No, I don't think so. Shakespeare is all talking. It confuses me…" Brittany trails off, remembering when Mr. Shue tried to make them translate a sonnet into Spanish to get them to think creatively, but she couldn't understand the Shakespeare to begin with and Santana had ended up writing it for her.

"So what will you do then? You know there's always a spot at the studio if you want it," Mike suggests.

"I know, and thanks, but I like performing. Amanda and some of the other dancers said there's going to be a modern dance show in Wapakoneta in February, and they're holding auditions soon, so I think I'll join them there."

"Okay, sounds good."

"How's it going at the studio?"

"It's going really well. We got five more students last month, so I think I'll have to hire another teacher soon. Wish it could be you!" Mike tries again, followed by a reminiscent laugh. "Dancing with you was always great. Sectionals when Santana sang 'Valerie' was epic."

"It totally was. I'm glad we became friends then."

"You know, if it hadn't been for me, you and Santana – "

" – might not have gotten back together. I know, Mike, you remind me all the time," Brittany chides, remembering. After a night of practice for Sectionals, the two had gotten to talking again (their post-practice ritual) as they waited for their parents to pick them up.

"Tina got jealous again," Mike had muttered, "So I told her I'd be dancing for her out there." They had paused, sitting together in comfortable silence. "Who will you dance for?" Mike asked.

Brittany hesitated. She knew she should say Artie. He was her boyfriend, and she cared about him. He was sweet to her, and made her laugh, even if he underestimated her intelligence once in a while. But Santana… Well, she was Santana, and Brittany doubted she'd ever be able to resist catching her eye on stage or hiding how she felt. So she'd decided to avoid her instead. It was easiest. It hurt the least.

Mike had looked up when she hesitated. He read her like a book.

"Artie? Or… someone else?"

"No. No one else. She doesn't care," Brittany blurted out, then quickly bit her lip, her eyes darting in Mike's direction. Shoot. She'd done it again.

Mike just smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, I know about you guys. Puck told me."

"It's not Puck," Brittany had replied, frowning. Mike laughed in response.

"No, I know. It's Santana."

"Yeah."

They'd sat in silence, and said goodnight with more closeness. Later, Mike had helped her through the breakup with Artie, and slowly, with kind words and reminders, guided her back to the person she'd really been crying over in her loneliness. The reconciliation hadn't been easy, but Mike had waited loyally on the sidelines to catch her if she fell and Santana wimped out again. But finally, the brunette had gotten up the courage and _had _been there to catch Brittany as they both fell back in love.

"I'm glad you were there." Brittany sighs, coming out of the memory. "I waited too long to get Santana to commit. I hate waiting."

"How's the waiting going now?" Mike asks.

"About as well as it went seven years ago," Brittany quips, turning her head sideways and wiggling her feet before she remembers Eggy is somewhere in the sheets. "Should I tell her that I know about the ring?"

"No," Mike answers immediately. "She'd be disappointed. Just be patient."

"I hate it when people tell me that. What is she waiting for?"

"The perfect moment? Maybe she's just nervous. But it'll be worth waiting for, trust me."

"That's exactly what she said," Brittany grumbles. "I just didn't think she'd actually make me wait this long…"

Mike laughs warmly. "Be patient."

"Okay. Talk to you later, Mike."

"Bye! Have fun with Eggy."

She hangs up the phone and nearly begins to roll over, but a contented squeak and a movement by her elbow stops her. She gets up carefully, nudging Eggy lower into the sheets so that he doesn't fall off the bed, and makes her way to the study to check her email. As she approaches, she hears Puck's voice and Santana's laugh, and tiptoes to the doorway quietly. She chances a peek around the corner and sees Santana talking to Puck on Skype.

"Please tell me you haven't started playing World of Warcraft," Santana laughs.

"What? It's damn addicting!" Puck protests.

"It's also damn old. As are you, compared to the age you're _supposed _to be when you're addicted to that game," Santana jokes.

"Me, old? I'm at the prime of my life. No one stops the Puckasaurus."

"Wow, I can't believe you honestly just referred to yourself as the Puckasaurus," Brittany hears Santana mumble, and smiles at the easy laughter and banter between friends. After a few seconds, Santana says, "Oh hey, I never asked you what happened with Quinn after Brittany's birthday party."

"Yeah, and I didn't ask you what happened with Brittany, either. Spill. Spare me no detail," Puck replies suggestively.

"Why don't I just send you the video?" Santana replies, her voice deadly serious. Brittany sniggers at the expression she imagines on Puck's face and misses his excited, sputtering reply, hearing Santana quip playfully, "God, you're so easy. No video. Perv." Brittany hears a disappointed sigh before Santana sobers up. "But seriously, Puck. Anything happen with Quinn?"

"Oh, come on, you know me," Puck replies with bravado. Brittany strains her ears to catch Santana's reply, but when it doesn't come, she imagines she raises her eyebrows skeptically instead. "Okay, fine," Puck gives in. "Nothing happened. Again."

Santana laughs. "You're such a loser, Puck." There's no reply. "Hey, come on," Santana continues more kindly, "I'm just saying, Quinn is there for you. It's been forever since high school, since Beth, and even if she was a royal bitch throughout that whole ordeal, she's stuck around. I don't know if she's really been waiting, but I bet she'd like to get back in touch with you, at the least."

"Yeah, but what if she doesn't?"

"Aw, you're actually just a softie, aren't you?" Santana chuckles. "You won't get shot down, I promise."

There's a pause, and Puck says softly, "Neither will you, you know."

Santana is quiet, before she says, guardedly, "Puck, I don't want to – "

"No, just listen, I'm being serious. You're all about telling me to get up the balls to go after Quinn and all, but whatever happened to the birthday proposal?" Brittany's breath catches. "Because, a hamster, Santana? Really?"

"Hey, she loves that thing!"

"No doubt; it's furry and cute, and it's _Brittany_, but I'm sure she would have liked the ring you got her just a little more…" Puck trails off.

"I chickened out," Santana admits finally, and Puck laughs softly. _I knew it_, Brittany thinks.

"Why? You know how much she loves you; you've been together since high school! Though you did need some guy help to get you back together when you fucked it up." Santana begins to stammer a reply, but Puck cuts her off. "Haha, no, no _way_ I'm letting you forget that."

"You know, I think that was the only time, like _ever,_ that you refused sex with me…" Santana muses.

"Only time I ever refused sex, _period,_" Puck laughs. "You were way too pathetic, trying to kiss me with your alcohol breath, crying how much you missed Brittany. And on Valentine's Day too… Gotta say, I can't think of a better turn-off."

"You just cared too much."

"Nah, I just don't dig half-conscious pressed lemons," Puck replies, and they both crack up. When their laughter dies down, Puck continues more seriously, "So, when _are _you going to pop the question?"

Santana groans, and Brittany hears the keyboard crackle as something smashes into the keys. "Oh, crap," Santana mutters, and a second later hears the slow ring of Skype from the computer speakers, followed by Puck:

"Jeez, you didn't have to hang up on me."

"Sorry. Accident," Santana murmurs, and Brittany smothers a laugh when she realizes she'd turned off Skype with her face in frustration. There's a short silence.

"Should I even try to ask again, or will you hang up again?" Puck asks carefully.

"I just want it to feel right, you know? The moment. I want us to remember it with no regrets."

"If you keep up with this, your regret is going to be waiting so long!"

"It's only been a few weeks."

"That thing must be burning a hole in your pocket by now." Santana stays quiet. "You know what they say about waiting for the right moment, don't you? If you wait for it, it'll never come."

"Isn't that what they say about having kids? If you wait for the right moment to have them, you never will?" Santana laughs. "Wait, was that your reasoning with Quinn in high school or something?"

"Okay, _so _not funny."

"I know, I'm just putting the attention on you so that you'll stop hounding me about this." They pause, and Brittany holds her breath, hoping Puck stays stubborn. "I'll do it, okay? Soon," Santana finally says.

"That's my girl. Go get your blondie."

Santana giggles. "I'll get mine if you get yours."

Puck laughs in reply. "Someday…"

"Okay."

"Well, I gotta go. We're opening the bar up for lunch today as well."

"Okay, see you." Santana hangs up Skype and Brittany hears the computer chair creak as she sits forward to surf the web. She tiptoes away from the door and sneaks back to their bedroom.

So, Santana _had _meant to propose on her birthday, Brittany realizes with a grin. Puck was right. That would have been an even better birthday present, better even than Eggy. She stops herself from happily falling onto her bed as she thinks about the hamster. _Eggy is in there somewhere_, she remembers, eyeing the immobile sheets, and sighs. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to let him explore the bed…


	6. Chapter 6: Christmas

_Only two more chapters to go! :D Enjoy this one!  
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Brittany is rather proud of herself that she's managed to wait until Christmas Eve to open her presents. She's actually rather proud of being able to wait for _anything_ elseon top of waiting for that small blue box, and everything she so desperately wants that comes with it. The last two weeks, she's practically thrown herself into her work, staying later than usual and coming in early to suppress her impatience and keep her from confessing to Santana that she knows about the ring. She thought for a while that maybe she'd be able to lightly discuss the future, but every time she tried, her throat closed up in excitement and she was afraid the only thing she would be able to squeeze out was two small, high-pitched words: "I do, I do, I do, I do!"

She and Santana had decided to keep the Christmas presents modest this year, one each, especially because Brittany wanted to do Secret Santa with the two of them (Santana had smiled amusedly, but kept quiet and pulled Brittany's name out of the hat). If their Christmas tree – decorated by Brittany – hadn't been filled with multicolored Christmas balls and duck ornaments, it might have looked a tad lonely with only two presents underneath: one, a rather haphazardly-wrapped (two different kinds of wrapping paper) bundle and the other, a small, classily-wrapped box with a silver bow.

"Open mine!" Brittany says excitedly, before realizing that means she has to wait to open the box with the silver bow until Santana has opened hers.

"I don't want to get up," Santana mumbles into Brittany's ear, wrapping her arms more securely around her waist. The two are lounging on the couch, tangled up in each other (as always), zapping through channels on their TV ("Tacky, tacky, tacky," Santana had complained after three different channels had announced upcoming Christmas movies). Santana had asked Brittany when they were going to open presents, and Brittany had nearly tumbled them both off the couch in her excitement.

"Come on, you have to open mine!" Brittany repeats, unwrapping Santana's arms and picking up the creatively-wrapped present from under the Christmas tree.

"Okay, give it here," Santana says, faking reluctance with a smile on her face. Brittany's gifts are always an adventure. She tears the wrapping paper off (an adventure in itself), and smiles wider at the Bath and Body Works vanilla body butter and oil. "Aaw, this is great!"

Brittany puffs her chest out proudly. "I already tried the butter. It tastes really good." She continues as Santana tries to interject with an amused frown: "I know, I shouldn't have tried it because it's your present, but I wanted to make sure it was good enough. I actually really wanted to make something for dinner with the oil, but I didn't have time."

Santana grins and shakes her head in disbelief, silently reminding herself to make sure the ingredients of the body products have nothing toxic in them. "That's okay, Britt. Probably for the best."

"I can make you something now, if you want?" Brittany offers.

"No, it's okay, sweetie," Santana replies, pulling the presents out of Brittany's reach. "I love them." A pause. "Hey, you got me two presents! I thought we agreed on just one."

"Well, they go together!" Brittany pouts, and Santana smiles in response to Brittany's worried frown.

"Yeah, you're right. That's okay then. My present is kind of for both of us as well," she replies, smiling wider. Brittany's chest clenches in excitement as she bounds toward the Christmas tree and picks up the small box, bringing it to Santana.

"Do you want to give it to me?" she asks, her heartbeat speeding up in anticipation.

Santana raises an eyebrow. "You're already holding it, aren't you?"

Brittany nods, and shrugs mentally. She thought proposals were supposed to be that the proposer holds the ring to the proposee, but maybe Christmas proposals are different somehow. She pulls at the bow, sucking in her breath like there isn't enough oxygen in the room, and tries to control her shaking fingers when she opens the box. Inside, there's a small piece of paper. She stops her smile from fading; maybe the ring is underneath. She pulls at the paper, and something comes with it: a small wooden pendant of a smiling bear.

"It's a Build-A-Bear token, for the both of us. It's this workshop where you can design your own stuffed animal, in any way you want," she hears Santana say. Brittany freezes the smile on her face and tries to hide her disappointment. No ring. Again.

"I love it," she whispers. She can tell Santana notices a change in her smile, and the brunette comes off of the couch to sit across from her.

"Hey, Britt, what's wrong?" she asks softly.

"Nothing," the blonde lies, and mentally pulls on the corners of her smile to jumpstart the emotion it shows.

"You don't have to design a _bear_, if you don't want to. I know that when you were a kid and saw Balto, the bears scared you, so you can build anything you want. You can build a duck!" Santana urges.

This time Brittany's smile is real. It really is a great present, she reminds herself. She already has plenty of duck plushies (some stashed away in boxes, two or three standing guard under her and Santana's bed), but she's never had the chance to make her own. And the proposal can wait. Nothing has changed. Santana knows her as well as ever, and loves her as much as always – even more, Brittany remembers. She bought the ring. So, Brittany can wait a little longer. It's Christmas, Brittany thinks with a laugh, and pulls Santana into a hug.

"I love it."

"Merry Christmas, B," Santana says, and hugs her back. Brittany pours all her certainties into the hug, thinking_ I love you _and _I want to be with your forever_ and _You are my soulmate _and _Ask me already, you big wuss._

"Let's watch a movie," Brittany suggests when they pull apart.

"Okay, what do you want to watch?"

"Something happy and romantic. Something Christmas-y."

"Well, we have plenty of choice on TV tonight…" Santana jokes.

"Let's watch _Love Actually_," Brittany finally says with a happy laugh, and so it is decided. Santana pops in the DVD as Brittany gets settled into the couch, and when she beckons Santana onto the couch with a smile, the brunette cheerfully complies, draping herself between the blonde's legs and settling her face against her grumbling stomach as Brittany drapes a hand over her neck and plays with her hair.

"I'm going fall asleep if you keep doing that," Santana mumbles, and by the end of the movie, as Colin Firth is proposing, she does just that. As the movie ends, Brittany, the adorable Portuguese proposal still on her mind, trails her fingers across her sleeping girlfriend's face and whispers, "You know I won't say no, San."


	7. Chapter 7: New Year's Eve

_This is the second-to-last chapter! I hope you like it! It might be my favorite. :D_

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"This was a really great idea, Mike," Brittany says as he comes up to greet her. He'd been so busy playing host at his own party that he hadn't had the time to give her a proper hello.

"Well, the studio will be closed tomorrow, so we'll have plenty of time to clean it up after tonight… though I didn't think everything through. I hope I'll be able to get those scuff marks of Quinn's heels off the dance floor…" he says, sparing a look at the floor. It was easy to see where Quinn had walked – and remained, Brittany realizes with a smile as she follows the scuff-mark trail and it ends quite abruptly next to Puck, where the blonde is still sitting, laughing at his joke.

"You look great, by the way," Mike adds, admiring Brittany's strapless sea green cocktail dress. "Wanna dance?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Brittany replies with a smile, and gives him her hand. The stereo switches songs and begins a new, more upbeat number, and the two make their way to the center of the room. Though the whole room technically worked as a dance floor, couples had naturally migrated close to the mirrors and the music, and she and Mike join them.

The two dance easily, familiarly, and every few minutes, with a mutual grin, they throw in a dance move they both remember from Sectionals and Nationals, the movements burned into their brains by the happiness of helping Glee win. Brittany spots Santana talking to Puck, and flashes her a brilliant smile when the brunette mouths "Why don't you come on over, Valerie?" Mike follows her line of sight and grins at Brittany's delight. The music switches, and a slow song comes on.

"You two are so cute it's nauseating, you know that, right?" Mike jokes as he puts a hand at the small of Brittany's back and loosely holds her hand in his other.

"Yeah, I know," Brittany replies with a smirk, draping an arm over Mike's shoulders and enjoying the chance to talk while dancing.

"Patience running out yet?"

Brittany tilts her head to the side, pondering. "I'm okay now. In the beginning, it nearly killed me, the waiting, especially on my birthday and at Christmas. But then I remembered what I'm waiting for, and I've already got that."

"What?"

"Her. I've already got her. Everything else is just a bonus."

Mike smiles. "You're already happy."

"Yeah, I am. So happy."

"Good. As long as you're happy, I don't have to teach anyone a lesson," Mike jokes, and they both chuckle before falling into comfortable silence and enjoying the music and each other's company.

"Do you think they came together?" Brittany asks after a while, nodding to Quinn and Puck.

"I know they did. Puck asked her here tonight," Mike explains, adding "Finally," just as Brittany says the same. "He closed down his bar early in order to make it here tonight with her. Think of how much money he could have made, on New Year's Eve! He's really committing, before it's even started."

"Yeah, he's not such a bad guy. Quinn must be ecstatic."

"I bet you ten bucks he'll kiss her at midnight."

"You're on," Brittany replies. "_She_'s going to kiss _him_." Mike laughs, and dips her, making her giggle almost come out as a yelp in surprise.

"I heard Santana talking to Puck a while ago. Puck mentioned something about both of them getting their blondes tonight."

Brittany chest clenches around her heart, and she sucks in a shallow breath. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Mike notices Brittany's sudden breathlessness. "Britt, remember what you just told me? The ring is just a bonus."

"That 'I can wait' works fine in theory. But it would be pretty great if she proposed tonight, wouldn't it?" Brittany admits with a smile.

"I'm sure it would be pretty great any night. I think now, it's not even waiting for the right moment that has her nervous."

"What then?"

"That ring, it's not just saying 'I want to have a wedding and bridesmaids and dress up really nice and have a honeymoon with you.' It's her admitting that she wants to spend the rest of her life with you. That she'll be there through everything, and stand up to anyone for you. She's done that since high school. But this isn't high school anymore. Bullies are a lot worse."

"We've barely ever been bullied. High school wasn't an issue. The last time was when she punched that guy in Applebees in college."

"I know, but bullies aren't just people. A ring and a wedding is great, but in Ohio, it doesn't mean all that much."

"I never thought about that," Brittany mutters.

"I know you don't. But Santana might. She knows that if she proposes, she's going to have to protect you from a whole lot more than ever before. Even if you guys are married, in every way that matters to you, you won't be in any way that matters to laws. Imagine how hurt you would be if some stupid _law _told you that your marriage wasn't good enough, didn't matter enough? And imagine how Santana would flip."

"Yeah, she would go crazy if someone told me that. But wouldn't it be the same if we weren't married and someone said that?"

"Maybe. But there's no laws coming between you now."

Brittany sighs. "I just want to be with her."

"You are. Don't let what I'm telling you get you down, especially not tonight. You _are_ with her. Just remember that she might be thinking of all this, not just the happy moment when you say 'I do'," Mike says.

"I totally will though. I mean, I totally do. Want to. Say 'I do…'" Brittany frowns. What was she saying again?

"Okay, don't hurt yourself, Britt," Mike jokes. "Go dance with Santana now, she's had her eyes on you all night."

"Okay," Brittany replies happily, forgetting anything about laws or marriage as she bounds to Santana and drags her to the dance floor. Mike makes his way to the iPod attached to the speakers and puts on another slow song.

"You look beautiful, B," Santana whispers as she pulls Brittany close.

"You too. But I zipped up your dress, so I know you're beautiful in whatever you're wearing."

"Or not wearing, huh?" Santana adds, grinning.

"You read my mind," Brittany says, and smiles.

The two continue to dance and weave through the other couples. Drinks in hand, the other guests make their way through the party scene, silently counting the minutes until midnight and the long-awaited new year, or revising their New Year's resolutions as the time pressure makes them realize they weren't being quite realistic when they decided on them.

"Any New Year's resolutions?" Santana asks at one point, leading Brittany off the dance floor and getting them both a drink.

"Kiss you more. And play with Eggy every day," Brittany replies with certainty.

"I approve," Santana says with a brief kiss.

"It's not the New Year yet, S."

"Don't care," Santana replies and kisses her again.

"How about you? New Year's resolutions?"

"I want to turn this internship into an actual, full-time job. There's an assistant management position opening up, and I'm going to get it."

"Will you be working more?" asks Brittany with a worried frown.

"A little bit. But you won't notice, I promise. Nothing will change."

"I don't mind change, S," Brittany replies softly, glancing quickly at her empty ring finger. After a second, she shakes her head to clear it of the thought. "Anything else?"

"Yeah," Santana replies, pausing. She glances briefly in Puck's direction, before bringing her eyes back to Brittany and then glancing quickly back down at her glass. "I'm going to be braver."

Brittany's heart skips a beat, and she weaves her fingers with Santana's. "Aaw, S, you're brave enough," – _even if you take a while to get some things done_, she thinks cheerfully, "You're my hero no matter what," she finishes with a grin and a kiss on the cheek.

Santana looks up, holding Brittany's gaze and matching her smile. After a second, Brittany feels her gaze falter, and the brunette licks her lips nervously. With a quick scrape of the throat, she utters, "Listen, Britt. There's something I've been wanting to – "

"Ten minutes 'till midnight!" Mike calls to the party guests, and unmutes the flatscreen TV on the mirrorless wall of the dance studio, sending the deafening cheers of New York's Time Square crowd roaring through the room. Brittany turns back to Santana, her mouth dry and her thoughts hopeful, but the moment has passed, and the brunette signals she's going to go get them both a glass for champagne at midnight. Quinn walks over (Brittany smiles crookedly at the scuff marks that follow her), leaving Puck to get her glass.

"Hey, Brittany."

"Hey."

"Do you have who you're going to kiss at midnight?"

"Of course," Brittany replies with a smile, nodding at Santana, who is chatting to Puck with glasses in her hand

"How is Miss Big Shot Bitch these days?" Quinn asks with a sneer. Brittany frowns in disapproval.

"Quinn…"

"I know, I know; no bad-mouthing each other to you."

"_She_ sticks to the rule."

Quinn looks momentarily taken aback. She hadn't expected that. "Does she?"

"Yup. She doesn't actually hate you, you know."

"Oh." Quinn pauses, frowning, then shrugs and looks briefly in Puck's direction.

"So who are you going to kiss at midnight?" Brittany asks with a sly grin.

Quinn looks up in a surprise. "Oh, I don't – I mean – no one."

"You have to kiss someone at midnight, Quinn, that's the rule. The fireworks only go off if you kiss someone." Brittany says matter-of-factly. She misses Quinn's amused frown of confusion.

"Isn't it the rule that whoever you kiss you will spend the rest of your year with?"

"Really?" asks Brittany, her eyes going wide. This makes the midnight kiss with Santana a whole lot more serious.

"Yes, really," Quinn replies seriously, hiding a smile.

"And there's no one _you_ want to spend the rest of this year with?" Brittany asks jokingly. Quinn glances inadvertently in Puck's direction again, and Brittany's smile widens.

Before Quinn can answer, Puck and Santana saunter over with empty champagne glasses, and give a glass to their respective blondes. Once Santana notices Quinn, her relaxed, wine-buoyed expression turns into a disproving frown.

"What's up, preggers?" Santana quips on autopilot.

"Not pregnant, thanks very much. Though you look like you could be. Gone up another cup-size lately?" Quinn retorts instinctively. Santana narrows her eyes, and is about to engage again when Brittany interrupts.

"Hey!" she exclaims, just as Puck opens his mouth to object to the fighting. "New rule. You two are going to get along."

"Asking for the impossible, there, B," Santana answers, though her frown softens and Brittany can see a twinkle of remorse behind the tough attitude. She knows the two never got along after Quinn proved her hypocrisy by turning into a statistic in high school and dragging Puck into the mess by lying about it. Santana dropped the girl like a stone, and neither had forgiven the other. After high school, there was just too much history, especially since, in Santana's eyes, Quinn represented the epitome of religious bullshit that opposed Brittany and her being together (actually Quinn had been surprisingly mellow after Brittany told her about the two of them in college). But years had passed since then, and Brittany had stayed close to Quinn after high school. Both ex-cheerleading captains had matured, and Brittany was sure the two could get along.

"It's another new New Year's resolution. I'm adding it to my list," Brittany says definitively.

"Britt, if it's _your _New Year's resolution, you can't – " Santana pipes up before the blonde interrupts.

"Yes, I can."

"But Brittany – " Quinn objects.

"Nope. What I say goes."

Pucks smirks when both Quinn and Santana stay quiet, glancing between the two. "Nice one, Brittany. You've got them both whipped." Instantly, both Quinn and Santana attempt to hit Puck over the head, and he cowers in mock fear, sputtering, "Ah, that's the girls I know!"

The two girls look at each other, and Brittany can see their animosity fade a little.

"I still think you pulled some serious crap in high school," Santana says straight-forwardly.

"And I think you were cruel to me," Quinn answers simply.

"Okay," the brunette replies.

"Fine," Quinn finishes.

Brittany looks between the two girls, catches Puck's similarly-astounded gaze, and laughs. Puck grabs Quinn's hand.

"Come on. There's way too much love in here. Any more and I might just start bawling like a baby," he says, and pulls her along with him.

"You know, it isn't midnight yet," Brittany jokes. "You didn't have to be nice to her yet."

Santana smiles and raises her eyebrows in mock shock. "Oh no! I still have two minutes to be mean to her!" She begins to turn around, calling "Hey Quinn!", but Brittany shushes her with a laugh and pulls her back around.

"You're so silly," Brittany laughs, and squeezes Santana's hand.

"One minute till midnight!" Mike calls, and the crowd gathers around the television, champagne glasses in hand, and passing bottles around to share.

"Did you know that who you kiss at midnight is the person you will spend the rest of the year with?" asks Brittany as they gather around.

"Yes, I knew that."

"Is there no way to kiss ahead of time for every year after that?"

"What do you mean?" Santana asks.

"Well, it just seems a little redundant to kiss the same person every New Year's Eve if you know you're going to spend every year together, forever. What if you miss a year or something?" Brittany asks with a small worried frown.

Santana laughs. "Don't worry. I'll be there to kiss you every year."

"I wish there was a kiss that could make sure to make us together, for every year, forever."

"What, don't you like kissing me at midnight?" Santana jokes, until she notices Brittany's frown hasn't smoothed out, and she says softly. "There is a kiss like that, Britt."

"Then I want that," Brittany says with certainty, her frown easing and squeezing Santana's hand. She turns to look at the television as Mike starts the countdown, and when the ball drops and everyone shouts "Happy New Year!", she kisses Santana and pours the promise of all the next few years into the kiss. When they pull apart, Mike comes over with champagne, an impish grin, and ten bucks, which he pushes into Brittany's hand, saying "You were right", and nodding behind him where Puck stands, a little dumbfounded, with Quinn's hand in his and his lips covered in lipstick. Brittany laughs and raises her glass, calling "Happy New Year!", and remains oblivious to the Santana's careful smile and reminiscent look as she strengthens her New Year's resolution to be a little braver.


	8. Chapter 8: The Present

_The final chapter! I hope I did your expectations justice, and your impatience didn't get too unbearable! :D_

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One thing that all this waiting has definitely taught her, Brittany realizes two weeks after New Years, is patience. That there are some things worth waiting for, and that excitement builds as time goes by. Anticipationis okay. It can actually be fun sometimes. Like when Glee did The Rocky Horror Picture Show, when she'd had to smother her smile when Santana licked her lips as Mercedes said "Antici…pation!" That time, the waiting was kind of fun. And the singing and dancing down the hallways later was almost as fun as the long shower after-hours in the Cheerios changing room.

But just because the waiting has been okay for her lately, doesn't mean that Santana feels the same. Almost every day, Brittany catches her fidgeting nervously with her hair, awkwardly hanging up phone calls with Puck when she walks in, or running her thumb endlessly over the inside of her ring finger and looking away uneasily when she glances at Brittany's similarly empty finger. After two weeks of Santana uncertainly dodging around Brittany's obvious eagerness to kiss her every chance she gets, hoping one of the kisses will be the one that Santana promised would be binding for every year to come, Brittany realizes the brunette is having more trouble getting up the courage to propose than she, Brittany, is having trouble waiting for it.

She doesn't understand it. Not completely. Santana must know she will accept (probably with a screech so high-pitched that only dogs will be able to hear it); she's done everything to make it clear. All the legal stuff is beyond her; Mike tried to explain it again, but Eggy was trying to say something and she hadn't really been paying attention. It doesn't matter anyway, she decides; it's just about her and Santana being together, no matter what anyone else says. It's about not caring if the moment is perfect, because there's plenty of time to make other moments. It's about making New Year's kisses optional, because it's understood and promised that the coming year, and every year after that, will be pledged completely to kissing only each other. It's about allowing impatience to show, and not needing so much courage, because it's understood they'll meet each other halfway and make things easier for both of them.

It's with the last realization that Brittany makes her decision. With Santana's birthday only a week away, the birthday present idea comes quite naturally, and Brittany smirks at her own genius.

The guest list for Santana's birthday party is even shorter than for Brittany's because Santana had seen all her friends only a few days before when they celebrated her promotion to assistant manager of Courtyard Hotel with a night on the town. She reluctantly invites Quinn, but greets her relatively warmly when she and Puck arrive. It's a school night, so Santana promises to come home in the weekend to see Enrique and her family, but Kurt and Mike also make the guest list. This time, it's Mike that drags Brittany into the hallway closet when he sees the look on her face.

"What are you so smiley about?" he asks.

"Oh, now I get your joke about the closet!" Brittany laughs, twirling a scarf between her fingers and looking around idly, a smile still stretched from ear to ear.

"Brittany, hello? Why so ecstatic?"

"What? Can't I smile for no reason? It's Santana's birthday."

Mike raises an eyebrow suspiciously before asking, "Did she propose?"

"Nope," Brittany replies cheerfully, humming a short verse of 'Come To My Window' (it had been stuck in her mind all day) while Mike searches her face, flabbergasted.

"Brittany, come on!"

"I can be happy without her proposing, I told you before."

"In theory, remember?"

"Mmm," Brittany replies cryptically, and refuses to meet Mike's eye. She continues to hum, reaching for the closet door handle. Before she opens the door, she says gleefully, "Just be patient. Wait and see."

"Wasn't that my advice to you?" Mike grumbles amusedly as he follows her out of the closet.

"Yup, you've become the grasshopper," Brittany replies cheerfully, and skips through the apartment to the living room, leaving Mike scratching his head in confusion.

Brittany walks past Santana, slaps her butt, and says "I'll get the drinks, Birthday girl." As she makes her way to the kitchen she hears Puck make a quip that earns him a playful punch in the shoulder from Santana and an appalled look from Quinn – "Oh, live a little Quinn. Not all of us are fake pristine virgins all our lives," Santana jokes, and Brittany smiles at the sarcastic, veiled-insult banter that the two had naturally fallen into in their forced solidarity.

She comes back, balancing a few beers, a bottle of white wine, and a bottle of coke in her arms, as the guests are settling into the living room and Quinn gives Santana her birthday gift. This time, it's Brittany that fidgets nervously, rubbing her thumb over her ring finger, but making sure that Santana cannot see her left hand. Her smile spreads wide as Santana opens the last present, and she's reminded of her own eagerness for Santana's present on her birthday.

She stands up and beckons Santana to do the same. The brunette raises her eyebrows curiously but doesn't comment, and stands across from Brittany. Brittany ignores Mike's growing smile as he realizes what is about to happen.

"Well, San, this has been a long time coming, so I'm just going to come right out and say it. My birthday present for you, is me." Brittany lifts her right hand off her left and shows Santana her left ring finger. Around it is a red ribbon tied into a bow. Santana's curious smile turns into one of shock and slowly dawning understanding. "I wanted to jump out of a box or something, but I couldn't find a big enough box…"

"Britt, what do you – "

"I've been waiting, San. Don't make me wait any more," Brittany says happily, grinning. Santana matches her smile.

"Wait – I mean – _stay_ right here. Just a second," Santana answers quickly, and runs out of the room. Quinn leans forward inquisitively in her seat.

"Brittany, what's going – " she starts to ask, but both Mike and Puck shush her quickly.

Santana runs back into the room clutching a small blue box. Brittany's breath catches. The brunette steps closer and holds Brittany's gaze.

"Marry me?" she whispers as she opens the box. Brittany barely spares the ring a glance, shutting her eyes tightly as her lips collide with Santana's and she whispers "Yes" against her lips, realizing that this kiss is the binding one. They pull apart, and Santana slides the diamond ring over Brittany's finger. It complements the red bow, and the two smile wider at each other amidst hoots of "Finally!", "Oh my god!", and "I'm designing the dress!" as Quinn, Puck, Mike, and Kurt erupt in applause.

Throughout the whoops and cheers, Santana, her arms around her fiancé (_Fiancé! _Brittany thinks excitedly), whispers, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For giving me the courage the ask." She leans forward for another kiss when her eyes start to glisten with happy tears. "How'd you know?"

"I found the ring months ago."

"You waited all this time?" Santana asks in disbelief.

Brittany smiles. In the background, she hears the guys bickering ("I should be the best man! Technically, Brittany proposed first!" Mike insists and Puck replies "But Santana had the ring! There's no way I'm gonna be the maid of honor. I just can't rock that role."), but she blocks it out and laces her arms over Santana's shoulders, remembering her birthday, Christmas, New Years, and all the time in between with a reminiscent smile.

"Some things are worth waiting for."

_Fin_

* * *

_Thanks to everyone who read this and reviewed it, I really appreciated it. By popular demand (mostly by heyalove, actually), there will be a sequel, but it will take quite a while to finish because I don't post unless I have a story complete (I tend to lose interest halfway and then I get disappointed reviewers...), and I'm a uni student with 2 jobs and a social life, so busy, busy, busy! But there will be one! Actually, probably two! Be patient until then, and look forward to Ep 15 instead! Thanks for all the kind words!  
-Emmaliefje_


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